


Behind Enemy Lines

by QueerCannibal, UnderdogAngel



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Budding Love, F/M, Infiltration, SOLDIER x TURK action, Sexual Content, character abuse, political corruption, scientific experimentation, young!Sephiroth
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-22
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2018-03-14 13:06:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3411701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueerCannibal/pseuds/QueerCannibal, https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnderdogAngel/pseuds/UnderdogAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The rivalry between SOLDIER and the Turks is a poorly kept secret within Shinra Corp. However, the reasons behind the rivalry may not be as clear as everyone would like to think.<br/>A young Turk is sent to infiltrate the labs and uncover Hojo's dirtiest secrets, and the truth behind the SOLDIER program. Her main objectives? Find out how humane the SOLDIER program really is; and if General Sephiroth is involved, or simply a victim of the program.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Enter the General

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a spur of the moment roleplay session via Skype, and over time evolved into a whole complicated, angsty, and convoluted tragic romance.   
> We recently picked back up on it, and I decided to start sharing it with the fandom.   
> Some headcanons inspired by Bjaniks, my favorite FF7 fanfiction author. Thus all of my devotion, respect, and my half of the dedication goes to her.

It was the first time in ages that he felt like he was going to break; like the carefully constructed walls were going to crumble.

Sephiroth exited the deepest lab holding his left wrist, and walking with the faintest of limps. He’d never been pushed so hard during a holo-test. Sure he’d been pushed, since day one—since forever. But today was different. Perhaps Hojo had sensed that Sephiroth had been in a good mood, or that he’d enjoyed his time away from Midgard. Or maybe Hojo just wanted to be an asshole. Either way, Sephiroth was paying for it now.

Eighteen injections in his right arm, three in his left. Blood tests, and checks of all kinds: eyes, brain, heart, and anything else they could think of. Physical fitness tests, which were normal and rarely a problem. Sephiroth didn’t get winded easily, nor did he sweat unless under a great deal of stress, but it seemed that today was the day to push the limits. He’d run three hours on a treadmill, nearly falling off twice when his gait slackened. This, of course, didn’t go unnoticed, and Hojo had the lab-rats crank up the speed. He’d managed to keep up, but just barely. Sephiroth hadn’t fallen off of the treadmill since he was nine years old, and he certainly wasn’t going to give Hojo the satisfaction of doing it now. Which was probably why he now had aching knees that felt like buckling at any moment.

Then, on top of all that, there’d been the test simulator—to test his reflexes and pre-cog. It had been brutal. Hojo had thrown every monster imaginable at him. He’d felt like falling down and giving up by the end, but luckily it ended before he’d made up his mind to beg for mercy. Gaia, he hated the labs.

He made it back up from the sub-labs to the main labs before deciding to take a break; it was either that or become very familiar with the tiled floor. Dropping heavily into some of the hallway seats designated for waiting patients, Sephiroth let out a low groan. Gaia, he hurt all over. He poked at his right arm, which had started turning a slight silvery-pink color. He made a face; he was bruising. But despite that, he didn’t dwell on it long. All of his aches and pains and any obvious signs of abuse would be gone in a matter of hours.

Quiet footsteps approached where the silver-haired General was sitting. He didn’t seem to notice until the approaching figure spoke. “Are you all right, General?”

Sephiroth tensed but looked over towards the person who’d approached him. _She’s new,_  he thought, making a mental note to keep closer tabs on the staff coming and going as he rose to his feet. “Fine,” he said—like a reflex. He was always fine; perfectly fine. Even though he had to grit his teeth when he walked past her so as not to limp. “Good evening,” he muttered as he passed her, fully intending to make a quick escape, but his legs were having none of it. With a slight stutter in his gait, he came to a stop and promptly put an arm out to the side before quite quickly losing his balance and falling against the wall. “Damn it,” he grunted, his head swimming slightly. Ok, not so fine after all. What the hell had Hojo injected him with this time? Hojo was constantly injecting him with all sorts of disgusting concoctions to see how his body reacted. Sometimes it just gave him a headache, or upset stomach; other times it would knock him out for hours. He’d wake up in his room not knowing how he’d gotten there. This time, it seemed that, whatever it was, the mako in his system was having trouble fighting it off. He figured that he ought to consider himself lucky, since vertigo and some light headedness were his only symptoms.

The woman moved closer again, stopping just a few steps shy of him. “Maybe you should sit back down,” she suggested. “Or I could have someone help you back to your quarters.” Her tone wasn’t overly pitying or sympathetic; she actually sounded more clinical than anything. But there was an underlying sense of nervousness about her.

Sephiroth shook his head. “No, I’ll be fine.” Shifting his weight, he pushed off of the wall. He highly doubted he’d actually make it to his quarters, but he wasn’t about to have some lab-rat help him there either. Since becoming a General at the age of fourteen, he’d lived on the 23rd floor of the east side of the Shinra Building—quite a ways away from the labs. But there were too many unfriendly eyes who could see him return to his room, and, in such a condition, he wasn’t sure returning (even if he could) would be such a good idea. Sephiroth wasn’t the only person on the floor. The Turk Commander (who wasn’t all bad if Sephiroth was honest) also lived there; and where the commander was, his young second was sure to be also. He was the real problem. Tseng, a young Wutainese man only a little younger than Sephiroth, was constantly looking for weakness in the Demon from Shinra. And he wasn’t the only one.

Turning, he glanced back at the woman. She hardly seemed the type to spread rumor or gossip, but one could never be too careful. Sephiroth had even gotten to the point in his paranoia of gossip mongers that he’d begun refusing his annual hair-trimming appointments because the cuttings kept getting sold. “Although, would you accompany me to my room here?” He inwardly cringed. Gaia, he hated that room. “At least if you’re nearby and I pass out in the hall, you can have someone move me out of the way.” Coming from anyone else, it would have been funny; coming from him, it was just kind of sad, because he wasn’t even joking. Sephiroth had passed out in the halls before, and some, those who couldn’t move him on their own, just kind of pushed him aside or into a corner where he wouldn’t be in the way.

The woman pressed her lips together as she adjusted her glasses higher up on the bridge of her nose, trying not to chuckle at the non-joke. She nodded. “Of course.” She cut herself off from adding, “I’d be happy to.” It just sounded…misplaced in this situation.

Sephiroth’s old room wasn’t far from the labs, but it did take a time to get there due to his frequent stops whenever the room would start to slip out of focus or spin. Once they arrived at the door, he entered the old punch code and the door slid open. It was a simple room—white walls, white carpet, white ceiling. There was a small low bed with white pillows, and white sheets on it. There was also a small bookshelf that held mostly text books on the far wall—and nothing else. It was a fairly barren room, and Sephiroth hated it. The only evidence that it had once belonged to a child was that when the lights came on they were quite soft, and when the switch was turned, colorful dots fluttered about on the walls. Sephiroth flipped the switch, not because he needed the light, but because it was the only joy he’d ever gotten out of the room. The addition of the lights had been a gift from an old scientist who had died a long time ago.

“Thank you.” He entered the room and glanced back at the woman. He hesitated before inquiring, “Are you going to report this to the professor?” So often his reactions were reported to that man, and more often than not his nose was rubbed in it—always mocked because of weaknesses. He’d eventually get the last laugh, but today was apparently not that day.

The tech gave a small smile and a little shrug. “Report what? All I did was take a walk with one of the generals. I’m sure he wouldn’t find anything at all interesting about that.”

Sephiroth was mildly surprised at her response, but nodded in thanks before pressing the button and closing the door. Once it had closed and locked, he moved to the bed and collapsed onto it, gazing steadily up at the ceiling. Maybe he’d take a nap before making his way back up to his apartment. He didn’t have anything on his schedule for the day, so it couldn’t possibly hurt.

Outside in the hall the woman stared at the closed door for a moment or two before making her way back to the lab. She wasn’t completely briefed on all the procedures that were performed on those in the SOLDIER program, but it was somewhat unusual to see one of them so exhausted and pale. She’d seen cadets having a rough go of it, sure, but a general? It peaked her interests to say the least.

**oOOo**

Around ten o'clock pm, all of the lab technicians clocked out to return home. The only ones who remained were the emergency techs, and Professor Hojo and his men of course, who always worked odd hours down in the sub-levels.

As the labs cleared, Sephiroth emerged from his room. The brusing on his arm had gone away, and his ankle didn’t hurt as bad anymore, and, as far as he could tell, he’d slept off whatever he’d been injected with. He shot a nasty glare towards the door that lead to the lower labs before turning and heading up the hallway towards the main lobby. It would be dark and empty at this hour, but that didn’t matter. Sephiroth had no trouble seeing in the dark.

As he entered the lobby, he spotted the same lab technician from earlier, minus her lab coat. She was crossing the lobby, unaware of Sephiroth’s own approach. Her heels tapped lightly on the floor as she walked, then fell silent when she stopped in front of the elevators, waiting for that quiet ding that signaled the arrival of an elevator. Stepping up beside her, Sephiroth glanced sidelong down at her. “How long have you been working in the labs?” he asked, feeling the obsessive need to know exactly who worked where rearing its head.

She gave a jump, startled at his approach in the dark, but calmed and replied, “Not long. I’ve only been there a couple of weeks now, General.”

“Ah. That would explain why I haven’t seen you there before.” Sephiroth, though not good with names, was actually pretty good at recognizing faces, and hers had been unfamiliar. He’d been gone for nearly a month, having gone to spend some time with his only two friends, Angeal and Genesis. He rarely got to leave Shinra, but when he did, he milked as much time as he could get. “And how are you enjoying your time there?” he asked, his voice sounding casual though his intentions were anything but. He was a SOLDIER, a General, and though his tone was calm and collected, he was mapping her out. There were certain kinds of people who worked in Shinra: There were those who only intended to fulfill themselves, like Hojo, and The President, and the Turks; those who wanted to serve their country, or people, or some other dream-filled goal—the people who attempted to enter the SOLDIER program, usually; and then there were those who simply needed a paycheck, generally the secretaries, or some of the underlings. These people tended to be the least bothersome of the three types, and Sephiroth spent less time worry about them.

“Well enough,” she said. “I’m learning a thing or two, and it keeps food on the table.” She seemed calm as well, all the while wondering if she sounded as dumb as she thought she did when she heard her voice echoing around the empty lobby. Small talk was usually something she was quite good at—distracting people while she gave them shots and all that. But she had to admit that the general was more than a little intimidating, especially in person. But, hopefully, she feigned calm well enough for him not to think she was anything more than a little nervous.

Sephiroth wasn’t good at reading people, never had been. But there were certain things he was very good at reading. He could pick up on anxiety well, even in a crowded room—fear, nervousness. But not because of people’s faces, and rarely because of their voices; it was in their body language. He could tell she was nervous, but it didn’t bother him. He’d come to expect that; everyone was nervous around him. And those who weren’t were the ones who caused him the most pain. “Well, that’s good I suppose,” he said. Never having to work for his food, not in the normal sense anyway, he didn’t know that certain struggle. Of course, he didn’t really understand struggle of living outside of the Shinra building; though he was told it was tough.

“Are you local? Or did you move here for work?” he asked, frowning and pressing the elevator button again. It was lit up, but nothing was happening. He glanced towards the other elevator, it wasn’t moving either.

She followed his gaze for a moment, wondering about the elevators as well. “I’m local,” she said. “Well, I mean, I have been for the past few years. My family’s back in Costa de Sol.”

“Ah, I’ve heard it is nice there,” he stated, before moving towards the large desk that was situated between the two elevators. Moving around it, he picked up the phone and pressed a few buttons before holding it against his ear. He tapped his finger against the desk, then straightened when the ringing stopped and someone picked up. “This is the General, inquiring as to why you’ve halted the elevator.” His brow twitched at the response on the other end of the line. “I may not have the authority to administer disciplinary actions, but that won’t stop me from going to your superior, nor will it stop me from going up there and finding you!” he snapped into the phone. “Fix it!” He slammed the phone down and huffed. “Damn Turk,” he grumbled before moving back around the desk. “The elevators are down. I’m afraid you’ll have to take the stairs. Let’s hope you don’t have to go too far.” He moved towards the stairs. He didn’t mind taking the climb, even if he did have to go up to the 23rd floor. “A rather annoying and unruly Turklet has decided to pick up his game with me.” He rolled his eyes. Ever since the Turklet had joined Shinra, there had been some unspoken tension between himself and Sephiroth; of course, Sephiroth had no idea why. The young red head just seemed to like annoying him, and he was very good at it.

The woman gave a sympathetic smile and nodded. “I have every confidence you’ll get the best of him, General. And don’t worry about me; I’ll be all right with the stairs. I hope you will be, too,” she said, thinking about the condition she’d found him in earlier. He certainly looked better, at least.

“I can assure you that I’ll be fine,” he replied. “I heal quite rapidly. I think the longest I’ve ever been down for the count was forty hours.” He looked thoughtful before frowning. “I don’t actually remember why.” He gave a slight shrug, then moved up the stairs a little faster.

He was soon gone, and no sooner had he gone than a young red-headed boy in a crumpled black suit that looked a little too big for him appeared at the top of the stairs. He grinned. “Gaia, I love pissing him off,” he said with a chuckle.

The woman rolled her eyes at the boy. “Do you have a death wish or something? Do you _want_ to be impaled?”

The boy snorted. “Yeah, right. Please. He may know it’s me, but he can’t do a single thing about it and he knows it. For all of his titles, he has so little power,” the fifteen-year-old mocked, locking his hands behind his head. “Besides, if he were to get on the elevator with you, you’d either have to go to the top of the tower, or expose yourself when you get off on your designated floor.”

“Be that as it may, he’s very close to becoming a full-fledged general—with all the duties and power therein. And we all know he’s not overly fond of Turks like us.” She clenched her hand around the strap of her bag over her shoulder. “And I know very well I could’ve risked blowing my cover, but I wasn’t anticipating him being there at the same time I was. I would’ve come up with an excuse not to get on the elevator at the same time as him. And I was just trying to figure that out when I realized someone must’ve shut them off. I should’ve known it’d be you, Reno.” She’d had half a mind to thank him at first, but if he was gonna be such an imp about it…

“Hey, I saw him coming,” Reno said with a shrug. “Rude’s off for a meeting, so I was just lounging in the control room.” Translation: He was bored and had broken into the control room simply because he could. “I saw him coming, so I decided to help you out. You’re welcome.” He rolled his eyes and turned, walking in the same direction as her. “So, learn anything while down in the labs? Like what the hell that creepy old bastard Hojo is up to?” Reno hadn’t met Hojo more than once, and that had been one too many times. Rude had warned him to stay as far away from the labs and Hojo as he could. Hojo, unlike a lot of the other scum at Shinra, was seriously bad news. He didn’t care about money, or people, or rules—he just cared about science, and power, and wouldn’t think twice before pickling someone.

She sighed softly. “Not yet. Most of his work is done in the sub-level, and I’m stuck in the main labs. I’m basically a glorified secretary-slash-technician, which means my job doesn’t require me to leave that floor for much of anything. It’s gonna take some…finagling to get to Hojo’s notes and research. Which means it’s gonna take time.”

“Maybe Sephiroth could help you,” Reno suggested with a shrug. “He’s down there quite a bit doing who knows what. But if he’s even remotely human, he’s gotta hate Hojo just as much as the rest of us.” The suggestion was weak, but it was an option. Reno didn’t know much about Sephiroth personally, but from what he could tell, the silver-haired teenager wasn’t the sharpest sword on the rack when it came to social interaction. Some well-placed phrases, and he could probably be manipulated into doing something.

“The thought has crossed my mind,” she murmured, as if to herself. The way she found him today—it could only be Hojo’s doing. Anyone could’ve come to that conclusion, though. The real question was finding out just what Hojo was doing to reduce his finest creation, as Sephiroth had often been called, to a dizzy, exhausted mess. And, sure, perhaps she could find a way to get Sephiroth to open up to her about it, but he seemed so…naïve, almost. Yes, she was a Turk, and had been trained for this sort of thing, but part of her felt guilty for even entertaining the idea of manipulating the young general to get what they needed.

“Well, if you do decide to rope him in, remember, it’ll take an awful lot of honey to catch this fly,” he said with a wink before moseying off towards Rude’s private quarters. Reno had been assigned his own, but never used it. Some of the other Turks wondered what the little red-head would do when Rude moved into his own apartment away from the building in a few months. The most popular guesses were that he would either take up residence in some other unfortunate's apartment, or find a way to follow after Rude. The latter seemed the more likely of the two where Reno was concerned.


	2. Two More Generals Makes Three

The following morning when Eleanor arrived to work, everything was already brightly lit and quite busy. No surprise, since it was injection day. Injection day was the day that new recruits to the SOLDIER program came to the labs to be injected with mako. There were already a few cadets seated in the waiting rooms, looking nervous. A few Third Class SOLDIERs, and even one Second Class SOLDIER were lingering about, trying to assure the cadets that it wasn’t going to be so bad. A bold faced lie of course, but the assurance was enough to keep some of the younger-looking ones from darting for the exit.

“Ugh another injection day,.” Jack, one of the techs who worked on the same floor as Eleanor, groaned as he stirred sugar into his morning coffee. Jack was a nice enough guy, one who worked for a paycheck and not some other twisted scheme. He seemed a rare breed in the labs. “Poor kids,” he muttered, looking into the waiting room. “I’m not saying mako is bad, but, jeez, you’d think we’d find an easier method.”

“Let’s hope we can someday,” Eleanor said as she poured herself a cup of coffee. She’d already had one in her apartment, but another cup couldn’t hurt on injection day. There was no doubt she’d need an endless pool of caffeine-induced sympathy and confidence for these new recruits. And a little for herself to not think too long about the side effects these poor cadets would have to endure in the coming days and weeks.

It all went as well as it could, what with cadets crying and screaming, and vomiting, and having to be strapped to tables because they couldn’t hold still. The only one who seemed to be unbothered by these things was Hojo, who continued writing on his clipboard, making snide comments, and being a bastard to basically everyone. This must have been like his twisted fucking Christmas or something.

After five hours, most of the cadets had been sent back to the barracks, where they would spend the next few days being miserable. A few, who had reacted quite badly, were admitted to stay overnight. They’d be watched carefully to make sure they didn’t end up getting mako poisoning. Reactions to mako injections were always bad, but extreme ones could be disastrous. It was all Eleanor could do not to shoot nasty looks over her shoulder at Hojo all day. No matter who she was or what her true intentions were or how professional she was supposed to be, no one should’ve been able to stomach some of the things that happened in the labs. There were several lovely fantasies playing through her head of introducing Hojo’s face to her fist—or, better yet, giving him a taste of his own poison.

There was only one reason cadets and SOLDIERs alike had to undergo all this, and that reason was to create a better army and wage better wars. From where she stood, there was no such thing as a better war. Hopefully, she’d be able to get some intel about Hojo’s research soon, if for no other reason than to allow herself and her fellow Turks to be better informed about the sick bastard’s methods and intentions.

Once things had died down, Jack joined her back at the coffee machine. He smelled vaguely of chemicals and vomit. “I hate this job,” he grumbled, stirring an extra packet of sugar into his coffee. “So, now that the fun’s over, what have you got on your schedule?” he asked, pulling his spoon out and tossing it in the trash. Despite it being injection day, they still had other duties and appointments to keep. “Besides checking in on some of the less fortunate cadets, I’m just doing some annual checkup,.” he said, looking over at her.

She looked over her schedule for a moment, biting her lower lip softly before replying. “Looks like I’ve got a couple checkups to do as well.” She gave him a sympathetic look. “I don’t envy you the care of those cadets, though.” The poor things would probably be sick for the rest of the day at least, and that's if they were lucky.

“Eh, since Hojo’s popped back down to his personal lab, I can just knock the poor kids out,” he said with a shrug. “The others will get hell tomorrow, but these guys get to stay and sleep.” He gave her a smile before moving off. “Good luck with checkups.”

After a few hours into her appointments, Sephiroth made his appearance. His was to be a simple checkup; just the basics. Sephiroth blinked when he saw her, but otherwise remained expressionless. Eleanor had seen his name on her schedule and had been trying to prepare herself for a third time meeting him since yesterday, but she still couldn’t quite pull herself completely together when he finally did enter the room.

“Hello,” she said with a small smile, adjusting her glasses.

“Hello,” he replied, shrugging off the jacket he’d been wearing over his shirt and draping it over the nearby chair. He glanced at her, not sure where she wanted to start. Some of the techs he’d worked with so often that he didn’t need any instruction, but she was new, and, for all he knew, would want to do things differently.

She blinked for a moment, realizing that he was waiting on her. Clipboard in hand, she gestured to the wax-paper covered exam table. “We’ll start with taking your blood pressure,” she said, turning to pick up the device resting on the counter. Eleanor went about the exam as calmly as she could, trying to convince her nerves that it was just like every other exam she’d performed already that day. But she had to admit that hearing the general read an eye chart and watching him perform a hearing test was more than a little…odd. It would’ve been almost comical if not for the stoic, almost bored expression he bore through the entire process.

Near the end of the exam, Sephiroth was sitting on the examination table in nothing but white boxer shorts, back slouched slightly, looking utterly unbothered by his state of undress. He honestly didn’t understand the point of these exams.

“Almost done,” she assured softly, half to herself as she picked up a syringe off the counter. “I just need to take a small blood sample, then get a urine sample from you, and you’ll be free to go.”

Sephiroth extended his left arm. He’d found that getting blood from his right arm was rather difficult. As she tied the band around his bicep and he started to open and close his fist, she did her best to focus on the needle and on his forearm where the veins were starting to show. There were a handful of people who became less intimidating when stripped down to only their underwear, but Sephiroth was not one of them. And the last thing she wanted was to be caught ogling any part of him.

Sephiroth had picked up on her nervousness again, but he assumed that it was because she was new. It took some time for the newer techs to get used to being around him. “So, how did you fair with injection day?” he asked.

_Another attempt at small talk?_ _Interesting_ , she thought. “As well as can be expected, I guess,” she said, carefully pressing the needle against his vein. “My coworkers tried to warn me about how bad it can get, but…nothing can really prepare you for how bad some of the cadets’ reactions can be.” And she wasn’t lying; to call injection day harrowing would be an understatement.

Sephiroth nodded. “You’re lucky to have walked away unscathed,” he said watching as his blood filled the small vial. “One of the last techs ended up elbowed in the face, broke his jaw.” He shook his head.

Her eyes widened a little, and she wished she could say she was wholly surprised that someone had been so injured.

 “How many reacted badly?” he asked, meaning of course which unfortunates were stuck staying for observations.

“I counted three when it was all over,” she answered.

“Hmm, I suppose that it could be worse,” he said as she took the needle out of his arm and undid the band. He shook his wrist before standing. “But, even so, it isn’t likely that more than thirty percent of them will actually advance into the program.”

She wondered how many of them knew those odds going in, and wondered how many would think that it was all worth it. She hummed in response as she transferred the blood from the syringe into a sample vial. “Then I’ll think some good thoughts for that thirty percent.” She quickly labeled the blood sample before picking up a small plastic cup and lid. “Last thing I’ll take,” she said, holding the cup out to him. “Promise.”

Sephiroth had just slipped back into his pants before taking the cup from her. He excused himself from the examination room and crossed to the bathroom down the hall. He wasn’t gone long, and upon returning quickly replaced the sweater and jacket, leaving the sample cup on the exam table. “Thank you,” she said, picking up the cup and labeling it. She glanced at him as she set the samples aside. “I know how exhausting all these exams can be.”

“I just don’t understand why they need to do the tests every other month. My health never changes, and my mako levels only ever shift by a few dozen points in either direction.” He pulled his hair out of the back of his jacket.

“I suppose it’s the job of scientists and doctors to be obsessively sure about these things,” she said, doing her best to keep the disdain from her voice. The cadets and SOLDIERs were little more than glorified lab-rats, and part of her resented that she had to be a part of it—even if it was in such a capacity as it was.

“I suppose, and I appreciate their constant checking up on the cadets, but to do it to me is just…” He shook his head. He rarely talked ill of the scientists and doctors (out loud, anyway), and couldn’t believe that he was doing so with a lab technician, of all people.

She nodded. “I can understand that.” She wished she could attempt a lie that maybe it was because they worried about him, but the thought of Hojo being genuinely concerned about anything, least of all Sephiroth, made her want to laugh. “Maybe they’ll come to understand that you don’t need to be checked up on so much,” she said, however slim a chance there was of that happening.

“Well, I shouldn’t complain. I’m not the only general that has to have annual checkups. Angeal and Genesis do as well.” He offered her a small smile, an expression that looked unused, but rather lovely. It softened his otherwise hard features. “By the way, you’re good at this. Your hands didn’t even shake,” he complimented before heading for the door.

She blinked, staring after him as he left. Had he paid her a compliment—and a genuine one at that? It wasn’t unsettling, nor was his smile, but it looked like he was going to continue to surprise her. And she wasn’t quite sure how she felt about that just yet.

**oOOo**

The next week, Eleanor didn’t see much of Sephiroth, though she did meet a lot of other SOLDIERs and cadets due to injuries from typical field work or training injuries. She even got a visit from Tseng, who’d gotten a bad burn out on the field and needed some minor work done.

The second-in-command Turk sat patiently in the exam room, looking rather grumpy and singed.

“And how did this happen?” Eleanor asked, stopping herself from tacking on her usual _sir_ , since he technically wasn’t supposed to be her superior. There was no one else in the room, of course, and there weren’t any surveillance devices in the exam rooms, but she was cautious regardless. It was never certain who might be listening in on the labs.

“SOLDIERs is how,” he grumbled. “I swear, they never listen. If we don’t find some way to coordinate, things are only going to get worse.”

“This might sting a little,” was her murmured warning before she pressed an alcohol pad against the burn on his arm. “They’re headstrong, to be sure, but surely a compromise can be found to prevent further injuries like this.” There was her clinical, logical voice again—as if she were dealing only with another patient whose name she would forget as soon as they left the room.

Tseng rolled his eyes. “I’d usually agree, but SOLDIERs don’t have higher brain-power, apparently,” he said, gritting his teeth against the sting. The burn wasn’t bad, but it certainly smarted.

She took the pad away and reached for the roll of gauze next to her. With a soft chuckle, she said, “Well, try not to give up on them just yet, if you can.” She carefully started wrapping the gauze around his arm.

“How are you fairing?” he asked, looking back at her once she was finished bandaging his arm. “Have you discovered anything yet?”

She stiffened a little, adjusting the bandage before taking her hands away. “Not much,” she said quietly. “Most everything we’re trying to get at is in the lower levels, which I don’t have free access to. Up here, I’m mostly doing first aid and regular checkups, as well as tending to those with adverse affects to the mako injections.” Translation: All of those injected with mako within the last few months—not many of the older cases they were more interested in.

Tseng’s expression turned grim. It could take months to try and find a way to get her clearance down there, or even find someone else to take on the mission. “Well, keep trying.” He sighed, pulling his shirt back on and wincing slightly at the twinge of pain caused by the stretching motion.

“Of course.” She didn’t have to see his face to know what he was thinking; she’d been thinking the same thing herself. It had been almost a month, and they’d come up with next to nothing to show for it. Maybe it was time to come up with a new strategy.

She helped him into his jacket as he stood from the exam table. “You’re going to have to have that bandage changed tomorrow,” she said. “I’m sure the last thing you want is for the burn to get infected.”

“It’ll be fine,” Tseng said with another sigh. “I’ll get a low-level Cure later, hopefully from someone with a brain.” He waved her off. “Keep us updated.” He moved to leave, but came to a pause in the doorway. He glanced back at her. “Heads up, the other generals are here. Be careful,” he warned before moving down the hall, side-stepping the other two generals without a word.

Her brow furrowed slightly as she moved about cleaning up the exam room. What would the generals be doing here? She couldn’t recall either of them being scheduled for exams, but perhaps she’d just overlooked something on the roster. Either way, she wasn’t planning on disregarding Tseng’s advice.

As the two passed by the exam room, the auburn-haired general did a double-take and stepped back, peering into the room. “Oh, you’re new,” he said with a smile as he entered the room.

Angeal appeared in the doorway next, looking a little bored. “Genesis, be nice.”

The auburn-haired man shot him a look over his shoulder as he approached the new tech. “I am!” he snapped back before looking back at her and offering her a smile. “Hello, I’m Genesis. The grumpy one over there is Angeal. You must be new? Enjoying your time in hell yet?”

She gave a smile back. “Enjoying it as much as possible, I’d imagine. Nice to meet you, General.” She gave Angeal a nod as well. “And you, General.”

Angeal nodded at her as well before grabbing Genesis by the back of his shirt collar and tugging him back. “Down boy, come on. Leave her alone.”

Genesis glared at him. “Oh come on, she’s new. I’m just trying to be friendly.”

“Yes, and I know how you like to be friendly. Now let’s go.” He started dragging the smaller man out of the room. “Have a nice day, miss.”

She waved after them, still smiling cordially. "You as well, Generals."

**oOOo**

The Shinra building was abuzz since the arrival of the other two young generals, and Sephiroth actually made an appearance in the reception area of the labs later that afternoon. He was greeted enthusiastically by the auburn-haired youth, and patted on the shoulder by the other. The three spoke together before moving on to the training rooms.

Some of the other techs gave mixed signals about having the three generals in the same place all at once. A few were glad to see the other two, claiming they were much friendlier that Sephiroth. Others were worried, since the three being together would no doubt lead to them having to do more work. Apparently, when Sephiroth and Genesis were left alone for too long, damages were caused as well as injuries.

Jack told some "war stories" about the last time Sephiroth and Genesis went at it in the training facilities, and Eleanor sat nearby, pretending to go over some paperwork while she listened and thought. With the other two generals returning, did this mean she’d have an even more difficult time getting the information they needed? Were they as disdainful of Hojo and his experiments as Sephiroth seemed to be? It’d be just a bit too suspicious for a simple lab technician-slash-nurse to suddenly become friends with the generals, but she logged the option away in the back of her mind anyway. There was no telling what sort of opportunities would present themselves, after all.

And, oddly enough, it seemed opportunity came easier with the other two generals around. Genesis frequented the labs—if only to hit on Eleanor and the other female techs. Admittedly, he was quite smooth with the ladies. Eleanor couldn't speak for the other women she worked with, but she herself couldn’t deny being flattered at the attention of a general, even if it was one so childish as Genesis. It didn’t help things that the eighteen-year-old was very handsome, too. And, of course, with Genesis came Angeal, making sure his friend didn’t insult anyone too badly, or get too annoying. Sephiroth would sometimes come with them, either because they’d all returned from somewhere together, or they were planning on going somewhere together. A few times, Sephiroth even popped in to see if the other two had been by recently.

The mid-afternoon found Sephiroth leaning against the nurses' station desk, watching while Genesis and Angeal argued over something involving a tech, who didn’t seem to mind at all. Apparently, Genesis had been rather straightforward with his desires, and Angeal was attempting to drill it into his head that that was rude. Sephiroth shook his head, arms crossed. Genesis’ libido was incorrigible.

Eleanor also couldn’t deny how much she enjoyed watching the three generals interact. It was almost alien, to see them so at-ease. If nothing else, it meant more conversation passed between herself and the three of them, and it seemed not a one of them suspected her true identity. She was flying under the radar—just as they’d planned she would.

She walked behind the counter of the nurses' station, giving a smirk in Angeal and Genesis’ direction as she sat down in front of the computer. “He’s at it again, I see,” she said, glancing at the back of Sephiroth’s head.

“Genesis seems to have a need to interact with anything with legs,” Sephiroth said, rolling his eyes before turning his attention towards her. In fact, he simply turned around and leaned on the counter facing her, silver hair spilling over his shoulder. “So long as it only has two,” he corrected.

She chuckled, stacking some files in the corner of the desk. “Well, he’s gotta keep busy, after all,” she joked. Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she looked up at him again, a small smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. “So little for generals to do these days, I’m sure.”

Sephiroth rose a brow but said nothing. He was plenty busy, though not as busy as he’d like. He supposed the same could be said for Genesis and Angeal, though he hadn’t asked. They had a strict "no talking about work when it is time to play"—a rule Genesis insisted upon.

After another few minutes, Sephiroth sighed. “Who knows how long they’ll be at it.” He glanced at Eleanor again. “Would you care to do anything?” he asked. He knew she was off work soon, and, honestly, he wanted to get out of the building.

She looked up from the computer screen, glasses up on her head. “Sure,” she said, almost without thinking. “I’m almost through here.” She rested her glasses back on her nose and looked at him. “Did you have anything in mind?” Maybe this was a chance she’d been waiting for.

“No, Genesis is usually the idea man, but he’s busy. But I have money, so I can take you anywhere you’d like,” he said. He really didn't care where they went, but then a thought occurred to him. “But just not _Loveless_. I beg you, anything but that.” He got a pained look on his face. “I’ve seen it half a dozen times. And Genesis is constantly quoting it."

“So I noticed,” she said as she shut off the computer. “I haven’t seen it myself, but it does seem somewhat…overdone, I guess.” She stood, trying to tame her loose strands of hair again. “How about we just go grab some food?” she suggested.

“All right, that should be fine.” He pushed off of the desk and fell into step with her as they made their way from the labs and into the main lobby. Sephiroth wasn’t the most patient of people, and his disappearance would come as no surprise to his two friends.


End file.
